A Night to Remember
by Swordy Rides Again
Summary: Do you believe in coincidences, or does everything happen for a reason? On the eve of his marriage to Relena, Heero is forced to re-evaluate his future when a certain someone makes a reappearance in his life... 1x2, 3x4.
1. The Tasks

**Author's note: **

**Another re-posted fic, but this time I've left in the original author's notes. I toyed with a sequel and ended up writing it so that will be posted next. Hope you enjoy it – I wrote it on my honeymoon (wow, over two years ago) so it brings back a lot of good memories for me! -Swordy**

**(Original) Author's note: Just a couple of things to mention. Firstly, let me explain a little about where this fic came from. Here in the ****UK****, it's traditional to go on a 'hen night' before you are about to get married. Much like a batchelor party (but for ladeez) it usually involves shrieking groups of women and copious amounts of alcohol. Both were present on mine. With five wonderful friends, I spent a night (okay a weekend) around ****London****, taking in the sights and sounds of the ****UK****'s capital city. On our evening on the tiles, I was presented with a list of tasks that I had to complete before the night was out. Unlike Heero, I had twenty tasks, although some of mine weren't quite as bad as his…**

**Needless to say, I did them all and have the photos to prove it. Anyway, even in a slightly worse for wear drunken state I thought this might make a good fic for the Gundam boys so on my honeymoon, I penned this little tale which I've finally got round to typing up. I hope you enjoy it.**

**One last thing, brought to my attention by my good friend and source of support, Dyna. Apparently, 'busk' is just a British word so here's the dictionary definition:**

**_Busk_**** – (verb) to sing or play an instrument in the street in order to earn money. _Busker _(noun).**

Warnings: 1x2, 3x4.

**A Night to Remember**.

Chapter 1 – The Tasks

Heero scanned the sheet of paper with a growing mix of horror and disbelief.

_1. Get someone to give you a condom._

_2. Convince someone you have a risqué job._

_3. Get an item of underwear._

_4. Start a conga._

_5. Kiss a bar person._

_6. Get a tattoo._

_7. Do something impulsive._

_8. Get someone to buy you a drink._

_9. Busk on the __London__ underground._

_10. Get the attention of a police officer._

_11. Get a piece of advice from a married person._

_12. Declare your undying love to someone (Relena doesn't count)._

After the second re-read, he looked up to be met by three smiling faces.

"You're kidding right?"

"Uh-uh," Wufei replied shaking his head, his mouth pressed into a tight-lipped smirk.

"Have you read the conditions?" Quatre asked, his blue eyes dancing with humour.

Heero's vision returned to the piece of paper to read the bold type at the bottom of the page.

**_All tasks to be completed between the hours of _****_seven pm_****_ and _****_four am_********__**

**_A forfeit will be awarded for each incomplete task._**

**_Delegation of tasks is allowed, totalling one per person present._**

Heero gulped. Why he had let the others talk him into having a bachelor night was beyond him. Even a night at home with Relena and her endless supply of wedding magazines would be better than this…

"Anyway, Heero," Trowa said, his voice cutting into Heero's thoughts. "A million tasks have got to be easier than marriage to Relena."

His remark earned him a glare from Heero and a swat around the back of the head from Quatre. It was fair to say that the one time Queen of the World would not make an easy wife, just as she was not making herself an easy bride. Controlling to the last detail, Relena had chosen everything from the venue of the ceremony and reception to the bridegroom's best man. Heero had grown used to her tantrums when the florists couldn't find the exact shade of yellow roses or the caterers had bought the wrong material for the tablecloths. He was now convincing himself that she would be fine when the big day had passed and then they could continue their lives with some semblance of normality as husband and wife.

Wufei had been a valuable source of support since his wedding to the lovely Sally Poe had only taken place a year earlier, although when he told the stories about how she had stressed over the arrangements, Heero still felt she wasn't half as neurotic as Relena. He certainly never mentioned that Sally had threatened to claw someone's eyes out when they had suggested a three-tier cake instead of the fussy, five-tier monstrosity Relena had demanded. Heero shuddered at the memory of the future Mrs Yuy (or Peacecraft-Yuy as she had insisted) in all her furious glory. Still she _couldn't_ be like this forever he told himself.

Their courtship had been unusual to say the least. Relena had pursued him from the moment she had clapped eyes on him again, ignoring any attempts he made to rebuff her advances. Even when he had told her face-to-face that he wasn't interested, she had simply smiled and told him she would wait until he changed his mind, confident that he would realise his love for her in due course. The fact that he had agreed to marry her certainly indicated that he had done just that, but secretly Heero knew that that wasn't the case. He had agreed to it because he had simply grown tired of her relentless pursuit as well as the fact that the one person who could have made him happy had walked out of his life for good. He had realised too late where his heart lay and in the fullness of time he had convinced himself that the way to overcome his regret was to settle for someone else. He would grow to love Relena, he had told himself.

His friends had been shocked when he and Relena had started to date but as the months had passed they had grown to accept the unconventional relationship. None had been surprised when Relena had taken advantage of it being a leap year and proposed. To this day, Heero maintained that he'd never actually said 'yes'; merely she'd taken his silence as acquiescence. And so the plans had been laid - a huge wedding for the Queen of Sanque and her new husband. After the wedding, Heero would then move from his sparse yet comfortable apartment in Los Angeles into her palatial domain in the Sanque Kingdom where his entire collection of possessions would probably fit into one of Relena's broom cupboards. Relena had done little to disguise her disapproval at his choice of home and décor the one time she had visited him at his humble abode but by then, Heero had the skill of not listening down to a fine art. And thus it had continued; Relena instructed and Heero listened. Or pretended to listen. Whatever.

He had just begun to believe that life with Relena could be bearable when the wedding talk had started. Suddenly, there was only one topic of conversation and any deviation from it resulted in _muchas_ sulking and pouting. '_Sometimes I think you don't want to get married, Heero'_ she had said during one such episode. He'd had to bite his lip hard when she'd come out with that one.

The one brief ray of sunshine was the thought of the inevitable gathering of his absent friends for the bachelor party. He'd been amazed when Relena had suggested it herself '_it's__ traditional Heero_' and so he had awaited its arrival with eager anticipation. Not that he would ever dream of telling them, but Heero missed his friends as they settled into their lives, post-war. Their companionship during the hard years had been something that he'd come to rely on and its absence now was proving hard to bear. He'd thought how enjoyable it would be to spend even one night together until now, when he'd been duly presented with 'the tasks'.

They had decided on London for their evening of fun and were currently in the hotel bar of the top class establishment Quatre had booked them to in South Kensington. The manager was a client of the Winner Corporation and so the service and accommodation provided for them was nothing short of lavish. After a day lazing around the hotel health suite they had changed for the evening and met in the bar when Wufei had presented Heero with an envelope containing the itinerary for the night, which had seemed civilised enough until he had found the separate sheet of paper entitled 'Heero's Tasks'.

With a quick glance at the others, Heero had started to read, acutely aware that he wasn't going to get off as lightly as he'd first thought. He'd heard plenty of stories how bachelor nights usually involved something memorable happening to the groom-to-be, but he'd presumed his friends were not the sort for ridiculous pranks. Ha! How wrong could he have been?

After Quatre had directed him to the conditions and Trowa had joked about how they would be easy compared to a lifetime with Relena, Heero was almost plotting how he could make it to Heathrow airport and out of the country before the others noticed. He had no intention of making a fool of himself anywhere in the world.

"If it makes you feel any better, Heero, you're allowed to delegate three of the tasks; one to each of us," Wufei said, grinning as he sipped the expensive wine Quatre had ordered. The young Oriental man looked like marriage was suiting him, as his whole demeanour was a far cry from the angry young man they remembered from during the wars. The good Dr. Poe was obviously bringing out the best in him.

Heero nodded, re-scanning the list for the three worst tasks that he would duly pass on to his so-called friends.

"Well, gentlemen," Wufei said glancing at his watch before eying the small group as they drained their glasses, "Is it time to make a move? The bright lights of London are beckoning."

Heero shrugged as the other two smiled and nodded, his awkwardness only seeming to intensify their merriment. Quatre excused himself in order to ask the girl on the reception desk to call them a taxi as Trowa and Wufei stood, smoothing out their clothes as Heero folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into his trouser pocket.

"Oh," Wufei added, "and we've each got copies of your list before you think about leaving it anywhere."

Trowa grinned at Heero who looked completely forlorn. He stood slowly and straightened the collars on the sapphire blue silk shirt Relena had chosen for him '_it matches your eyes, Heero_' before following his companions to the hotel entrance to await their transport.

The daylight was fading as the four friends clambered into the private hire car that arrived a mere five minutes after the request had been made. The driver, a genial Cockney gentleman with a strong, almost incomprehensible accent, did most of the talking as they weaved through the diabolical London traffic towards the restaurant Quatre had booked them a table at. Their chauffeur, who duly informed them that his name was Mick, continued to swivel his head around to look at his passengers in the back, whilst keeping one eye on the snail-pace traffic in front. He had quickly noticed their various accents and appearances and was keen to learn what had brought the diverse group to London, or 'Lanndan' as he kept pronouncing it in his broad, East-end accent. His ruddy face lit up with the mention of a bachelor party, which he informed them was known as a 'stag night' over this side of the water, and he duly waved his left hand in the air, displaying a thick gold wedding band on his stubby ring finger.

"Twenty years," he announced proudly despite rolling his eyes as he said it. "Coulda got less for murder!"

Mick then proceeded to tell them about his own 'stag night', which had ended with him naked and handcuffed to a lamppost in full view of Buckingham Palace. "Bloody hilarious it was," he said chortling loudly as he sounded the horn as a four-wheel drive cut dangerously in front of them.

"Hn," was Heero's response, thinking 'hilarious' wouldn't have been the adjective he'd have chosen to describe what happened, but recalling his list of tasks, he decided to make a start by asking for a piece of advice from a married person, namely Mick. He must have some pearls of wisdom, Heero thought to himself, after all, twenty years seemed a long time to live harmoniously with someone.

"So can you give me any tips on how to survive married life?" Heero asked, trying to make the question sound innocent. He could feel Wufei, in the front seat next to Mick, grinning as he realised what Heero was doing.

"Well," Mick said scratching his chin thoughtfully, "that's a tough one."

He continued to think for a moment as he guided the car across a busy junction. "Okay," he said, "here it is. My best tip for keeping a happy and healthy marriage. Me and my wife, two times a week we go to a nice restaurant. A little wine, great food and good company…"

He glanced at Heero who nodded as he listened intently.

"I go Tuesday, she goes Friday."

The others roared with laughter as Heero smiled politely. Wufei then announced that Heero could tick that task off his list, leaving only eleven to go. The conversation then turned to filling Mick in on what else Heero had to go through that evening. Mick grinned and blew the air through his teeth so that it whistled slightly.

"Looks like you've got your work cut out!" he said, winking at the others as he pulled the car up to the curb and stopped. "That'll be eight seventy please."

Wufei handed Mick a ten pound note before following the others out onto the pavement. A fine drizzle had just started but the four friends were unconcerned since the restaurant was in sight. The owner of 'Papa Luigis' was a short, moustached man by the name of Mario, whose physical appearance bore a striking resemblance to the Nintendo character of the same name. He greeted Quatre warmly before allowing the blond Arabian to introduce him to his dining companions. They each shook hands with the plumber's doppelganger before making their way to the table he had reserved for them at the back of the softly lit restaurant.

As they sat down, Mario disappeared briefly before returning with a pretty young waitress in tow.

"This is Maria," he said, introducing her and causing her to blush as she surveyed the four handsome strangers before her. "She will be your waitress for this evening. She is Spanish, but her English is very good."

The jolly Italian then clapped his hands together as if he'd just heard an extremely funny joke before turning and headed back to the kitchens, leaving Maria to hand out menus and take their drinks orders.

'Very good' was obviously an over-ambitious description of Maria's English skills, particularly when faced with the array of accents held by the four diners, so she looked a little relieved and a lot grateful when Trowa ordered everything in fluent Spanish. Smiling shyly, she turned away to take their orders to the kitchens as the others, including Quatre, ribbed Trowa playfully about 'showing off' in front of their attractive young waitress.

As the wine waiter filled their glasses with a rich Cabernet Sauvignon, Heero found that he was starting to enjoy himself. His companions always made excellent company as they chatted about their new lives; Wufei and Sally had decided to start a family, Trowa and Quatre had just bought a new house together. There was of course a noticeable absence in their group, but no one mentioned his name even once and for a brief moment Heero wondered if Duo had ever existed at all…

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a voice to his left. "What? Sorry…" he said sheepishly as they all stared at him.

"I was just saying, I hope you've not forgotten about your tasks," Wufei said with a smile as he twisted his wine glass by its stem.

Heero shook his head and took a long sip from his own glass, enjoying the increasingly fuzzy feeling the wine was giving him. "I haven't, but I can't do much here can I?" he said boldly.

The other three laughed.

"Of course you can!" Quatre giggled, retrieving his own copy of the list from his pocket and scanning the contents.

Heero looked at the blond challengingly. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

His companions paused thoughtfully as the three of them craned over Quatre's shoulder to survey the list. They glanced at each other as Wufei pointed to something Heero couldn't see before they all nodded, smiling broadly.

"Okay," Wufei began, conspiratorially quiet as he glanced across the room to Maria the waitress. "You've got to tell her that you have a risqué job."

"What?" Heero spluttered, his eyes bulging slightly.

"Yeah," Quatre said nodding earnestly, "but you only complete the task if she believes you so you've got to be really convincing."

"Quick, she's coming!" Trowa said suddenly.

Silence reigned as Maria set down their starters, unaware of the knowing looks the four diners were exchanging. Realising the moment would be lost if Maria was allowed to leave Wufei said loudly, "Maria, we were just discussing something and we'd like your help."

The young girl shot Trowa a look of uncertainty before he translated everything Wufei had just said into perfect Spanish. Realising they would not proceed without her agreement, she smiled shyly and nodded.

Wufei smiled broadly. "My friend here," he said gesturing to Heero whose face instantly turned the colour of the wine, "has quite an unusual job." He paused whilst he allowed Trowa to translate. "And he says women are put off him when he tells them what he does for a living."

Trowa repeated this in Spanish as Quatre stifled a giggle behind his hand. When Trowa had finished, Maria looked at Heero expectantly but the Japanese man did not notice as his eyes bored holes into the rich Axminster carpet.

"Heero?" Trowa said, forcing him to look up. "Tell Maria what you do."

In a small voice that sounded very different from the one that had struck fear into the hearts of Oz soldiers during the war, Heero muttered, "I'm a male stripper."

Trowa translated. Maria's eyes widened.

"A stripper?" she repeated, looking the smartly dressed Japanese man up and down doubtfully.

Heero nodded, meeting her eyes in an attempt to look genuine as the others struggled to conceal their amusement. She continued to study Heero for a moment before her face broke into a wide grin. "You joke yes?" she said smilingly, "strippers big, many muscles, you small."

Heero blushed furiously as Wufei disappeared behind his napkin.

"I've got muscles!" Heero replied indignantly and before he knew what he was doing, he was unbuttoning his shirt. It was Maria's turn to blush as he revealed a lightly tanned but well-honed chest, his muscles rippling under the overhead lights.

"I think, you could be stripper," she said, her eyes darting to look at anything other than the attractive and half-naked diner. "I sorry, I very busy. You need anything else or I go now?"

Trowa excused her and she scuttled away as Heero buttoned up his shirt. It was several minutes before the others composed themselves to look the Japanese man in the eye. Several other diners who had observed the curious scene resumed their own conversations with a final glance at the all-male table, who seemed to have forgotten their own food in their amusement.

"Well?" Heero said as his face returned to its usual colour, "Did I pass?"

Three heads nodded in unanimous agreement as Heero defiantly ticked that particular task off his list.

TBC…


	2. Heero Delegates

**Author's note: Many thanks for the reviews. I'm happy to see some familiar names! -Swordy**

**A Night to Remember**

Part 2 – Heero Delegates.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully apart from the odd glances Maria cast at Heero whenever she came to their table. After settling the bill, the four friends left the restaurant relieved to find that the rain had temporarily ceased. The streets had gotten considerably fuller since they'd entered the restaurant and trying to find a cab looked like an impossible mission. Noting they were near Bond Street tube station, Quatre suggested that they made their way to Leicester Square that way. Recalling there was something on his task list relating to the London Underground rail system, Heero fished the piece of paper out of his pocket as they walked.

_9. Busk on the __London__ underground._

'Yeah right' Heero's internal voice muttered inside his head as he recalled just how lousy a singer he was. At one of the schools they had been temporarily enrolled at during the first war, he had been required to befriend the son of an OZ commander in order to extract information from the family home. The boy in question was a member of the school choir and duly, Heero had enlisted himself so that they had something in common. The music teacher Miss Jameson had been so horrified by the Japanese boy's lack of vocal talent that she'd insisted that he mime if he was so determined to be part of the choir. He was _that_ good. Therefore, to save himself from untold humiliation he would have to delegate the task to… he did a quick eeny, meeny, myny mo… Trowa.

Heero smiled as he fell into stride with the tall European who looked at him, bemused.

"Choosing what task to do next?" Trowa asked, smiling at Heero through his thick bangs.

"Something like that," Heero replied cryptically, unable to resist a smile as the other remain unaware of his fate. "Actually, I've decided to delegate the next one to you."

Trowa looked only mildly surprised. "Are you sure?" he asked, "because you can only delegate one task to each of us."

Heero nodded, resolutely determined. "Yes, I know but there's no way I'm doing this one," he said, pointing to the list before they descended the stairs at the entrance to Bond Street tube station. Wufei and Quatre who had walked on ahead disappeared from view briefly to buy tickets from the machine, but when they returned, they quickly came to see what Heero and Trowa were discussing.

"Heero wants me to do the busking task," Trowa explained in response to their inquisitive expressions.

Wufei and Quatre nodded despite looking mildly disappointed that Heero wasn't doing that one himself. Since they had all shared school placements during the wars, they'd been privy to Heero's vocal talents, or lack of them, and had decided on the task to exploit them. They'd reasoned that he may delegate that particular task, but it hadn't stopped them hoping that he'd find worse duties to give them, leaving himself to the singing one.

"Fair enough," Wufei said with a shrug. "Rules are rules."

They made their way through the turnstiles, putting their tickets into the slot that automatically opened the gates for them before they descended further into the cavernous underground rail system. The four friends followed the steady stream of commuters down the escalator and through a series of draughty tunnels as they headed for the correct platform. For a moment Heero thought Trowa was going to conveniently forget about his designated task until a violin-playing busker came into view. The man, in his mid-twenties, was playing a lively Irish ditty on a battered-looking instrument as a wiry terrier-type dog looked on from its comfy position on the man's screwed up jacket.

Aside from his faithful pet, no one appeared to be paying much attention to the man, despite his obvious talent. Seeing the musician, Trowa strode on ahead and engaged the man, who promptly stopped playing. Out of earshot, the three friends could only wonder at what Trowa was saying to him as the man first frowned, then smiled and nodded. They watched as Trowa cleared his throat before the violinist began to play. All three instantly recognised the tune before Trowa started to sing. Even Heero, who was not a particular fan of opera, knew the tune 'Nessan Dorma' from when he had sat through match after match with Duo during the football World Cup several years ago when the song had been the official anthem.

The echoing chambers of the tube system gave perfect resonance to Trowa's already excellent tenor voice and before long, the world-weary commuters were starting to take notice of this clearly talented, yet unconventional busker. Heero noted a group of Japanese tourists behind him and couldn't help but overhear their discussions as to whether Trowa must be someone famous and should they get his autograph when he'd finished? From their position a few feet away, the three friends watched as people started to root in their pockets for money and before long, the busker's upturned cap was filled with loose change and even a few bank notes.

As the song drew to its climactic close, an appreciative burst of applause broke out before people resumed their journeys. The real busker tried to get Trowa to take some of the money they had jointly earned, but the dark haired ex-pilot wouldn't hear of it. Instead he simply thanked the man as he stroked the entertainer's resting canine companion before turning to rejoin his friends.

"That was fantastic!" Quatre gushed, unable to prevent himself from flinging his arms around his handsome partner's neck.

The other two looked on, equally impressed before Heero retrieved his list and ticked off the appropriate task. "Did me proud there," he said, smiling at Trowa who laughed in response.

"Glad you think so," he replied modestly as they started off towards the platform.

On the journey to Leicester Square, Heero managed to fulfil a couple more of the slightly easier tasks after they started up a conversation with a group of tourists from Australia and New Zealand, sat near them on the tube. The group, travelling to celebrate their final exams at university were quite interested when they learnt of Heero's tasks and before long, a pair of knickers, some condoms and an impromptu conga around the carriage had helped satisfied three more of the evening's requirements.

As they disembarked, feeling ever more in the party spirit, Heero decided it was time to delegate another task. He had already contemplated how much earache Relena would give him if he got a tattoo, so he had quickly decided that that would be a task he would delegate, but now he was presented with a problem. Wufei already had a tattoo - a symbol of his clan, which made the task a little less daring should he give it to the Chinese man. Trowa had already done a task leaving… Quatre, the last person on earth that would get a tattoo voluntarily. That said, Heero thought to himself as he glanced across at the innocent-looking blond, if Quatre refused then surely he could too. The others, having encountered Relena many times during the wars, would understand just how badly she would kill him if he went home with any non-God given adornment.

"Uh-oh," he heard Trowa say as he turned to see the others regarding him cautiously. "Methinks Mr Yuy's about to delegate another task."

Heero smiled in response to Trowa's perceptiveness as he nodded acquiescently. "You're right, and this time it's for Quatre."

The diminutive blond glanced at the others nervously before he spoke. "Which one do you want me to do?"

Heero smiled. "You have to get a tattoo."

Wufei's eyes went wide with surprise at Heero's choice. "Quatre?" he said in disbelief, "the man who could make it into the Guinness Book of Records for the world's lowest pain threshold?"

Quatre shot Wufei a glare of annoyance before he turned to Trowa, who merely shrugged and smiled. They had discussed the possibility of Heero delegating certain tasks and had all agreed to live with the consequences. Mind you, Quatre thought, that had been after they'd finished off several bottles of wine as they'd drawn up the list. Now, with slightly less alcohol inside him, it didn't seem such a good idea…

"Fair enough," he said, not sounding entirely sure as they began to scan the streets for a suitable establishment. Away from Leicester Square, amongst the back streets there was no shortage of places to go to have tattoos and piercings, and after studying the credentials of several of the smarter-looking parlours they settled on one entitled 'Rays'. It looked clean and Ray displayed his many awards and health and safety documentation in the shop window. They didn't have to drag Quatre into the shop, but as he heard the steady buzz of the needle, they almost had to prevent him from leaving.

After a couple of minutes where the four friends were alone in the shop as they studied the endless designs on offer, the drone of the needle stopped and Ray himself appeared, wearing a large grin and most of the tattoos he offered to do on every visible inch of flesh.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans as he glanced at the four smartly dressed men before him. "Now what can I do for you?"

Trowa nudged Quatre gently in the ribs as the blond continued to gawp at the man's heavily decorated skin. "I er… want to get a tattoo," he said, doing his best impression of someone who very much didn't want one at all. "But if you're too busy…" he trailed off hopefully.

To Quatre's dismay, Ray shook his head. "Actually I'm pretty quiet at the moment. In fact, I was just doing myself another design when you came in but I can finish it later." He raised his arm to show them, but it was difficult to distinguish new from old, he had so many. The four friends smiled politely.

"Well if you want to choose a design, give me a shout and we'll get started," he said, still grinning as he disappeared into the back room of the shop. The buzzing needle sound started up shortly after.

For the next ten minutes or so, the four men surveyed the rows of designs, pointing certain ones out to Quatre in the hope that he would see something he liked.

"Oh this is hopeless!" he exclaimed eventually, throwing his hands up in despair as he finished looking at the last wall of designs.

"Why don't you just get 'Trowa' tattooed across your forehead?" Wufei laughed, glancing at Heero and Trowa who both started to chuckle.

The scathing look on Quatre's face was instantly replaced by an expression of thoughtfulness. "You know," he said as the others stopped laughing, "that's not a bad idea."

His friends exchanged dubious glanced as they watched Quatre poke his head around the door at the rear of the shop and have a quick conversation with Ray. The proprietor then came into the front and located a pad and a pen from under the counter before handing it silently to Quatre, who went to sit on one of the sofas as the others looked on curiously. As soon as Quatre put pen to paper, his friends realised what he was doing. In no time at all he had produced the word 'Trowa' written neatly in Arabic script, which he then handed to Ray, who disappeared in the back room to reproduce the design as a transfer. Whilst he was gone, Quatre shrugged at the others before smiling shyly at Trowa. "I hope it'll look okay," he said, barely finishing the sentence before Ray reappeared and beckoned him into the back.

"Trowa?" Quatre said, suddenly looking nervous.

The blond needn't have worried however as Trowa was already at his side. "Are you two waiting here?" the taller young man asked his remaining companions who nodded simultaneously.

With the two of them alone in the front of the shop, Heero and Wufei started to idly browse through the rows of designs on offer. Heero saw one he liked very much and was staring at it so hard he didn't hear Wufei approaching behind him.

"Why don't you get it done?"

Heero spun to face him. "Huh?"

"That tattoo," Wufei said, pointing at the design, "It'd look good on you."

Heero shrugged, his gaze moving to the floor and staying there. "Relena hates them," he said simply.

Wufei smiled as Heero glanced up in time to catch the gesture of support. "I'm sure she'd love anything on you," the Chinese man replied, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted as he sensed trouble in his friend's voice.

"Yeah… probably," Heero answered vaguely, sweeping a hand through his unruly brown hair.

During the brief conversation, the now familiar sound of the needle had started up, shortly followed by a muffled yelp of surprise. The two at the front of the shop exchanged glances before they set off laughing, trying desperately to prevent the sound from reaching the blond young man in the next room, who would no doubt not appreciate their amusement.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Quatre and Trowa emerged, the former looking considerably paler than the latter. The blond was nursing an area on the inside of his left forearm covered with gauze that indicated to the two men outside the chosen location for his new piece of body art. After settling up with Ray, who was well used to customers leaving his shop a whiter shade of pale, they emerged onto the bustling London streets.

"Let's have a look then," Wufei said cheerfully, turning to look at Quatre.

The blond shot him a pained look. "Drink first, look later," he muttered through gritted teeth as the others fought down smirks. As they set off walking, Heero referred back to the increasingly dog-eared piece of paper to see how many more tasks he had to complete. He was relieved to see that some of the worst, in his opinion, had been tackled but there were still others that caused him consternation. The fact that Quatre had gone through with getting a tattoo meant that the forfeits for non-completion must be much, much worse than the tasks themselves. Still, he always had one more task that he could delegate to Wufei…

The problem was, which one remaining task did he deem too awful to do himself? He wasn't sure he could think of a way to 'be impulsive' but he didn't particularly relish the thought of having to kiss a barperson, and declaring his undying love to someone? Well, that was pretty much unthinkable too. Looking up from his list to tell Wufei that he had decided which task he could do, Heero realised that he had lost sight of all three of his companions.

"Great," he muttered, turning his head back and forth as he tried to pick them out in the heavy crowds. To make matters worse, the rain had started to fall again and soon all faces were obscured by a variety of multicoloured umbrellas that jostled with each other for room on the busy pavements. After a moment of standing in the rain, he decided to continue his search from under the cover of a nearby shop, reasoning it was better to stay put and let them come back to find him. Five minutes passed and then ten. The rain eased a little and just as he was contemplating leaving his shelter to look again for his absent friends they reappeared, Quatre leading the way, his almost white-blond hair like a beacon of light in the growing darkness.

"Heero!" he cried, relief visible on his boyish features, "Thank Allah, we thought we'd lost you!"

Heero offered them a sheepish smile before explaining how he'd got left behind whilst reading his task list. As he spoke, Heero couldn't help but notice that unlike Trowa and Quatre who were smiling broadly, Wufei seemed to have adopted a much darker expression, a scowl in fact, which was joined on his face by a flash of colour on his cheeks, indicating that he had been blushing recently. Before Heero could question the Chinese man's stormy expression, Trowa and Quatre, who appeared to have forgotten about his sore arm, burst out into a fit of laughter. Evidently something had happened during their period of separation.

"Oh give it a rest, you two," Wufei muttered darkly, glaring at each man in turn, but his rebuke did little to deter his companions, who had now reached full-blown hysterics. People were starting to look at the group of young men as they passed, curious as to what they were laughing at, although none was more curious than Heero, who stared at each of his friends in turn, waiting for an explanation.

Trowa was first to speak as Quatre fought for breath, his eyes watering badly from laughing so hard. "Wufei's just completed another one of your tasks," the tall European man chuckled, regaining a little composure despite a broad grin still splitting his handsome face.

Heero looked puzzled as he dug the list out of his pocket to scan which tasks hadn't been completed yet. As he studied the paper, Trowa proceeded to explain how they had quickly realised that Heero was missing and had started to search Leicester Square for him. Apparently, Wufei had seen someone, "He _did_ look like you Heero," the Chinese man interjected at this point, and had rushed over as the person was walking away. In his haste, Trowa explained trying not to start laughing all over again, Wufei had tripped and fallen and ended up tackling the man round the legs, who then very embarrassingly turned out not to be Heero. The incident had been witnessed in its entirety by a passing policeman who had rushed over thinking Wufei was trying to mug the Japanese tourist of his hideously expensive camera, and promptly pinned him to the ground.

Only the intervention of his companions had prevented Wufei from been hauled off to the nearest police station to spend the night in the cells. The tourist had been placated when the three young men had explained Wufei's actions in broken Japanese and the policeman had been satisfied that no harm had been intended. Trowa and Quatre, once they knew Wufei wasn't in danger of being arrested, had seen the funny side instantly, unlike Wufei who continued to scowl during the retelling. Heero laughed and couldn't help but agree to write off the 'get the attention of a police officer' task as Wufei's delegated duty. Judging by the look on Wufei's face, Heero reasoned that the Chinese man would probably refuse whatever task Heero chose for him to do anyway.

The only problem now was that all of the remaining tasks had to be completed by Heero himself. Strictly speaking, he didn't _have_ to do them, but he knew that when the others said there would be forfeits imposed for incomplete tasks, then the alternative didn't bear thinking about. Put simply, if Quatre was willing to get a tattoo rather than take a forfeit then it was safe to assume that whatever they had chosen would be pretty extreme.

Looking at his watch, Heero realised he had approximately seven hours left to complete the remaining tasks, but before he could begin to worry about them, Wufei's voice broke into his thoughts. "Come on, I need a drink," he said grumpily, glancing at the others almost challenging them to disagree.

Keen to reignite their friend's good mood, the four companions headed for the nearest bar; a Mexican themed pub named 'Chiquitos'. The interior of the pub was a mish-mash of greens and orange, the brightness of which made up for the dim lighting. At the back of the main room a large screen displayed video after video of Latin artists, the songs blaring out through the speakers, contributing to the lively atmosphere within the popular meeting place. Once inside, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei went to find a table as Heero headed for the bar. Despite the remaining tasks playing on his mind, he was enjoying himself considerably and as he waited to be served, he couldn't help but smile at some of the evening's events. This night would certainly remain in his memory long after the ink on his marriage certificate was dry.

As he continued to daydream, unconcerned by the lengthy wait to be served, his eyes caught on a movement further up the bar. Instantly focussing, he couldn't suppress a gasp of surprise as an all too familiar figure stood just several feet away, expertly pulling a pint of beer. Dressed in dark coloured trousers and a loose black shirt, open at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves, Duo Maxwell, the owner of the longest hair and most striking eyes Heero had ever seen, worked oblivious to the fact that his ex-lover and three of his closest friends were currently patrons of his place of employment.

TBC…


	3. Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

**Author's Note:**

**Well, this is the last chapter. I'd originally decided to leave the ending ambiguous but I got tempted / harassed into a sequel. That will be posted next.**

**Anyway, thanks for all your kind comments! Swordy.**

Warnings: More angst, 1x2, 3x4.

A Night to Remember

Part 3 – Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained.

It had been almost two years since Heero had seen Duo last and there had been little in the way of physical change, other than he seemed a couple of inches taller and his braid, if possible, seemed a little longer. In short, and as much as Heero tried to deny it, Duo was still as heart-stoppingly beautiful as he ever had been; indeed, his beauty was not going unnoticed by others in the drinking establishment that night. The slender American was currently serving a large group of girls who were almost salivating over their attractive barman, who merely smiled politely at their requests for his phone number. So engrossed in this spectacle was he, Heero remained oblivious to the young man behind the bar who was now trying to get his attention in order to serve him.

"Hellooooooo," the blond young man said loudly as he waved a hand in front of Heero's face, "Earth to drooling guy! Do you want a drink or what?"

Heero looked over sharply. "Huh? What?" he said before the barman's comments hit home. "I was _not _drooling! I know him that's all."

The man merely rolled his eyes in response. "Of course you do, now what would you like to drink?"

Incensed by the barman's assumption that he was lying and just wanted to hit on his colleague, Heero glared at him furiously. "Could you please tell Duo that I'd like to speak to him? Thank you."

Caught off guard by the Japanese stranger referring to his colleague by name, the blond man studied Heero curiously for a moment before shouting, "Duo, there's someone here who says he knows you."

The brunet turned and almost dropped the pint he was holding. "_Heero_?" he said quietly, his violet eyes wide with surprise.

Sensing there was more to this than a meeting of old acquaintances, the blond barman walked over to Duo and took over from his serving duties. The group of girls at the bar looked angry as the handsome young barman walked away, shooting furious glances at Heero before they turned their attentions to finding a new _object d'amour_.

"Hello, Heero," Duo said quietly, his eyes both suspicious and defensive. "What are you doing here?"

Still unable to avert his gaze from the heart-shaped face he hadn't seen for so long, Heero began to explain, somewhat reluctantly, that he was here purely by chance for a bachelor party, namely his own.

"Relena?" Duo said simply, looking away as he said it.

Heero nodded, certain that that one word was breaking Duo's heart as he uttered it.

"So what d'you want?" Duo asked suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that had descended.

Heero opened his mouth to speak, amazed that Duo would be so direct before the long-haired young man clarified, "to drink, I mean."

Embarrassed somewhat by his own interpretation, Heero quickly placed his order for drinks. "So…" he said awkwardly as Duo went to work, "How've you been?"

"Fine," came the reply, the brunet never looking up from the glass he was filling. "London's good. I like it here."

Heero nodded. "That's good," was the only thing he could think of to say and he knew how lame it sounded as the words passed his lips. Desperate to prevent the situation from becoming any more tense, Heero said, "Trowa, Wufei and Quatre are here too. Why don't you come over and say hello? I know they'd love to see you."

"I don't think so," Duo replied stiffly, placing two of the completed drinks on the bar. "I'm too busy, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention you'd seen me."

"Sure," Heero replied despondently, sad that after all the time that had elapsed, Duo still wanted to keep his old friends and his new life as separate entities.

It had all happened after the second war when the five young men had tried to regain a sense of normality in their short, yet troubled lives. Duo had settled in Los Angeles, preferring life on earth to what he had grown up with on the colonies. Wufei had joined the Preventers with Sally, and Quatre had gone home to L3 to take over his father's business with Trowa as his partner in every sense of the word. Only Heero had not adjusted well to life without war. With nowhere to call home and a poorly developed sense of what it was like to be a young adult, he had caused the others great worry, particularly to Duo who had often indicated his feelings for the perfect soldier ran deeper than he would ever have ever have admitted whilst war was the first thing on their minds.

Since Duo had settled quickly into life and work, he had invited Heero to stay with him whilst the redundant fighter decided what to do with the rest of his life. Slowly, and with Duo's unwavering support, Heero had started to adjust to a normal life and, to prove that he was coping, a college course was decided on; education they had agreed would help Heero familiarise himself with what it was like to be seventeen years old. And as life had moved on, and the nightmares of war had started to fade, something deeper than friendship had started to grow between the two young men. Unlike Quatre and Trowa who had turned to each other at a time when comfort and companionship were in short supply, Duo and Heero had no sense of urgency in their love; it had grown and it felt right.

That had been the way it had stayed for six blissful months until the Fall had rolled around and Heero had started college. To Duo's great chagrin, Relena had chosen to attend that very school in order to spend a couple of years away from Sanque before she fully took over her duties. Delighted to find her old crush in attendance, she immediately began to make a play for him, although subtly this time. Genuinely thinking she had changed, Heero allowed himself to be drawn into her group of friends, but as shallow as popularity might seem, Heero found himself starting enjoy the sense of camaraderie Relena and her friends could offer. Until she had arrived, he had found himself like a fish out of water amongst other people his own age, but Relena knew what he had been through, and although his role in the wars was never mentioned, he felt reassured that there was _someone_ who understood that there was a genuine reason behind his social inexperience. Despite Duo's misgivings when he had found out the identity of the rumoured 'VIP' at Heero's college, Heero genuinely and somewhat naively believed that Relena was happy for them just to be friends. However Heero's new found popularity was soon threatened when he found out that he didn't fit in with his friends as well as he'd first thought.

It had started when he had been seen out with Duo one day, on a seemingly innocent shopping trip. Never overly affectionate in public, Relena's friends had not realised Heero's relationship to the long-haired young man and assumed him just to be an acquaintance. Struck by the teen's alternative appearance, they had ridiculed him so much in front of Heero when he had joined them in the refectory at college the day after that the Japanese young man had been too embarrassed to admit exactly what Duo was to him. They'd called Duo names like 'queer' and 'freak', leading the socially inexperienced Heero to deduce that what he and Duo had was wrong. When they told him that he shouldn't hang around Duo so much or people would think _he_ was a queer too then he knew he couldn't tell them that he and Duo were a couple. Relena didn't know about their relationship either; she just presumed that he and Duo had just decided to stay in touch after the war.

So with that seed of doubt planted, Heero started to distance himself from Duo, taking every opportunity to pick fights and arguments, which Duo couldn't begin to understand. Heero's bizarre sense of logic told him that he would feel better if it were Duo that ended their union and so he set about engineering situations that would test Duo's patience to the limit. Under this constant pressure, the relationship eventually broke down, leaving one young man convinced that he had acted for the best and the other hurt, confused and angry. Their final encounter had been a bitter experience; words had been spoken, feelings laid bare. Duo had opened his heart to the perfect soldier who had stood and listened impassively. Deep down, Heero knew what he was doing was wrong but he had decided to stand by his decision. Even when Duo announced that he was leaving, unable to be around Heero any longer, he had said nothing, leading Duo to the conclusion that the Japanese man cared neither whether he stayed or left.

Several days after their fight, Duo had caught a flight to Europe. He left no word of where he had gone to and, in his shame at driving him away, Heero initially made no attempt to find him. But concern crept in and he started a search, calling up on Duo's old friends to see if he had stopped by but none of them had heard from him since he had walked out. Eventually, when his worry had not dissipated any, he was forced to enlist Quatre's help, who used his contacts through the Winner Corporation to do a more detailed search. The Winner heir then succeeded in locating Duo, who was working in a beach bar in the south of France. Thinking Duo would not want to see him, Heero had allowed Quatre to make the first contact but, in his shame, had neglected to give the blond the entire story as to why Duo had upped and left and so Quatre only succeeded in angering Duo by reprimanding him for leaving after what he assumed must have been a petty row.

Since then, Duo had moved again, only this time he was more careful to cover his tracks and so future searches all drew a blank as to his latest whereabouts. Quatre had initially been angry with Heero for allowing him to unwittingly upset Duo but, ever the forgiver, the Arabian had become a source of support for Heero as he lamented his loss. Over a year had passed and it became clear that Duo wasn't going to return. He had sent word once or twice to say he was well and happy but more so to prevent them from looking for him too hard. Duo, it seemed, was still angry with his friends as well for apparently siding with Heero when it was _he_ that had been wronged.

After the first year anniversary of Duo's leaving, and a whole twelve months of self-enforced misery at his mistake, Heero finally relented to Relena's endless pursuit and the two began a courtship, which culminated in the marriage proposal; the reason for his being in Leicester Square, London on a night out with his closest friends. Two years ago Heero would naturally have assumed that should he be undertaking something as serious as a lifetime commitment, it would be Duo that he would be making those vows to but here he was, staring at a virtual stranger. The thought made his heart ache.

"Duo, can we talk?" he said quietly before his brain could argue otherwise.

"What about? I think we said everything we needed to last time we met." The expression in those violet orbs was hard but not unfriendly. Evidently the hurt had not dissipated after two years apart.

"I just… want to apologise for what I said… the way I reacted," Heero said meekly, forced to look away from Duo's penetrating stare. "I would have done it two years ago if you'd stayed."

"I _would_ have stayed," Duo said sharply, almost slamming the drink down in front of his former lover. "But you let me walk away."

Heero met his gaze briefly before shame forced him to turn away once again. "I know," he said regretfully, "And I'd give anything to go back and change things."

The emotion in his words caught Duo off guard for a moment before he regained his composure, his face creasing back into a frown. "Anyway," he said, as if he was trying to convince himself as well as Heero, "what does it matter? You've got Relena now."

"Yeah," Heero replied vaguely, sweeping a hand through his unruly dark hair; something he did unconsciously when he became uncomfortable with a particular topic of conversation. Duo didn't miss the gesture and instantly his own emotions were plummeted into confusion by the look of uncertainty on Heero's face.

After a brief silence, Heero glanced up at Duo to be greeted by a hard stare. "You _do_ love her don't you?" the smaller man asked.

"Yes!" Heero snapped, realising instantly that his response had sounded more desperate than convincing. "I mean, I care for her… a lot."

Duo shook his head in disbelief as he finished preparing the last drink. "Jeez, Heero, marriage is a pretty big step to take with someone you 'care about'," he said, his tone lacking the venom of his previous utterances.

"I know," Heero said quietly.

Duo studied his former lover for a moment, taking in the general air of uncertainty that surrounded the once confident and assured pilot. His heart begged him to reach out and comfort the other man, the feelings he'd had for Heero still swimming not far beneath his steely exterior, but his head, hardened by the other's rejection held him back.

"That'll be ten twenty please," Duo said, gesturing for some money, which Heero duly deposited in his hand. The brief meeting of skin on skin seemed to affect both of them as they snatched their hands away, quick to quell whatever feelings the touch appeared to rekindle.

Duo keyed the amount in the till before returning to give Heero his change. Notably this time, he put the money straight onto the bar. "Well, good luck with the wedding," he said, forcing a thin smile onto his lips, which stopped at his eyes.

Heero was about to beg the other man to be present at his forthcoming nuptials before his brain engaged and he said instead, "Well thanks."

Duo acknowledged Heero with a nod before he turned and walked away, never glancing back to where Heero was standing watching him, an anguished expression trampling across his handsome Asian features. Seeing Duo wasn't going to return, Heero picked up the drinks and navigated his way through the throngs of people until he found the others occupying a table at the back of the club.

"Heero!" Wufei said, pulling Heero's seat out for him as the other set down their drinks on the table in front of them. "We all thought you'd got lost or something. Or done a runner so you didn't have to finish the rest of your tasks."

With all the willpower he could muster, Heero managed a convincing smile as the others laughed. "Sorry, it was crazy at the bar and it took me ages to get served."

He sat down and took a long drink from his own glass, feeling hugely guilty that he was keeping something as important as Duo's whereabouts from his friends; particularly Quatre who had helped in his search for Duo in the past. He was glad therefore when the others forced him into their conversation, which was definitely more light hearted than his current thoughts. As he re-focussed on his friends, he became aware that the topic for discussion was Quatre's new tattoo.

"We've been waiting for you to get back," Wufei explained, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "Quatre wanted to show us all at the same time."

Pushing Duo to the back of his mind, although he knew it was only a temporary solution, Heero smiled broadly at the blond. "Go on then, let's see it."

Quatre duly obliged, grimacing slightly as the gauze clung stubbornly to his skin. When the bandage was off, he turned the limb so that the others could clearly see the inside of his left forearm, where the word 'Trowa' was written in flowing Arabic script. To the uneducated, the tattoo appeared to be nothing more than a neat black pattern but for Quatre, it was a permanent reminder of his one true love. Wufei nodded approvingly as Heero's smile faltered slightly as his mind wandered back to Duo. Memories surfaced of watching the long-haired teen, grinning broadly as he presented yet another piece of body art that he had got because he was 'bored'.

_What d'you think, d'you like it?_

_Yeah. It looks… great._

_You should get one, I think you'd look really sexy with a tattoo._

_What, like you?_

_You don't think I'm sexy?_

_I don't think it, I know it._

_Then show me. I'm waiting…_

Heero shook himself from his reverie, knowing how that particular encounter had ended. Reaffirming his outwardly happy appearance, Heero studied his three friends as they discussed Quatre's tattooing experience. Despite his complaints about the pain he had had to endure during the design's completion, Quatre seemed fairly enamoured of what he called 'his bit of daring', despite the fact that he had done considerably more daring things during the war. "I wonder what my father would make of this," he chuckled, eying the body art proudly, before his expression clouded with sadness. Sensitive to Quatre's emotions Trowa put his arm around the blond and pulled him into a protective embrace. Seeing it, Heero couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy. Why had he ever thought that what he and Duo had was so wrong?

In response to Quatre's sudden attack of melancholy, Wufei raised his glass, his face solemn. "Here's to family that's no longer with us."

The others all mimicked his gesture before Quatre added, "And to absent friends who should be here." There was a look of sadness on the blond's features as his mind turned to thoughts of the jovial American who had been such an integral part of their group. For a split second, Heero almost blurted out that, in an extraordinary coincidence, Duo was only several feet away but he before could do so, he remembered his ex-lover's request and remained silent, feeling he owed Duo at least that much.

The four companions clinked glasses in the toast as Heero struggled to maintain his cheerful façade. He was relieved when the others felt it was time to move on; Wufei had booked them tickets for a comedy club and the show time was rapidly approaching. From behind the bar, Duo caught a glimpse of the quartet of men as they were leaving. He watched Heero scanning the room anxiously for him before he followed the other three out into the London night, dejection written across his handsome features.

"So what's the deal with you and the Japanese guy?" his serving companion Greg asked, seeing the direction of Duo's gaze.

Duo shook himself from his thoughts as he picked up a glass and wiped it with a towel. "Nothing," he replied, unable to shake off the hope that Heero would suddenly return and… "Nothing any more."

Greg nodded, sensing the unspoken anguish within his smaller friend. Duo had been in London for almost twelve months and although he had made many friends, there was still no one special in his life. He had grudgingly agreed to go on blind dates with both men and women but all had ended with the prospect of nothing more than friendship and always at Duo's say so. Though he had never spoken about it, his friends sensed this was because he was either pining for someone back home in the US or mourning the breakdown of a significant relationship. Seeing how Duo reacted to seeing the Japanese man, Greg presumed that it was the latter.

"D'you not want to go after him? I'll cover for you if you do," he asked, watching Duo as he continued to wipe the same glass despite it being dry several minutes ago.

"No," came the definite reply. "Heero knew exactly how I felt and he chose to walk away. All seeing him tonight has done has reaffirmed my belief that he never loved me in the first place."

"Are you sure?" Greg persisted, noting the lack of conviction in Duo's voice. "He looked pretty lovesick to me when he saw you. What if he comes back? Are you going to tell him to go? That you don't love him and want him back?"

"But he _isn't_ going to come back," Duo stated, avoiding the question entirely as he depositing the glass on the side with a bang, threw down his towel and stalked away from the bar and into the back room.

"Damn you, Heero," he muttered angrily, brushing aside a stray tear as he leant against some barrels and glared at a random spot on the wall. He stayed that way for several long moments before his anger faded and he whispered almost inaudibly, "I love you, Heero, please come back."

Heero was quiet as they walked to the comedy club just off Leicester Square. His friends noticed, but presumed either alcohol or pre-wedding nerves were contributing to his sudden attack of reticence. None even came close to the truth; that the man Heero had loved and lost had just made an unexpected re-entry into the Japanese man's life. In response to Heero's forlorn expression, none of the other men mentioned his remaining tasks as they walked along. The night was still relatively young and there was still plenty of time for Heero to succeed in the 'mission' they had set him. The rain had eased once again but the dark clouds loomed ominously in the sky overhead. The pavements shone with rainwater as the first street lights flickered into life. The flow of people to and fro showed no signs of easing as the hour grew later. All around, lives were being played out; friends laughed together, homeless people called out for money, lovers argued and traded insults as others turned at the sound of raised voices.

Heero could see why Duo loved London. He had always thrived off being around others; finding happiness in friends and an active lifestyle. Heero could easily recall the times when Duo had driven the four of them demented when they had been forced to seek refuge in a more isolated safe house. He was forever thinking up ways to pass the time, as if any second left unused was a second wasted in his eyes. Heero didn't doubt that Duo knew the value of life; he had often talked of the hardships he had endured on L2 and how he felt humbled by the fact that he had survived when better people, in his eyes, had perished. Seeing what a good person Duo was and how he always put himself down had always driven Heero mad, but now the recollection of Duo's self-depreciation only brought with it guilt, knowing that he had contributed to Duo's feelings of worthlessness with the shameful way he had pushed the young man aside.

No wonder Duo had looked so unhappy to see me, Heero thought glumly, despite the fact that a one in a million chance had meant that they were both in the same city, in the same building at the same time. Coincidences like that should be treated with surprise and delight at the favourable fortunes against such insurmountable odds of the people involved, but Heero knew that Duo would react with no such emotion. He had been hurt badly and even two years and several thousand miles couldn't undo the damage he had done.

As they reached the comedy club, Heero couldn't help but glance back down the rain-slicked street in the hope that he would see Duo running towards him, arms and heart open. When there was no long-haired young man to be seen, Heero consoled himself with the fact that he could have done little about it anyway, had Duo been ready to forgive and forget and more importantly, try again. He was engaged to be married; it was too late for regrets at what could have been had he not made that foolish mistake two years previously.

Wufei handed in the tickets at the door as Trowa and Quatre exchanged puzzled glances after watching Heero for some time. Hands dug into his pockets, he wore the armour of uncertainty which weighed heavily upon his demeanour. His face was a mask; reminiscent of the Heero of old who had hidden his emotions away to prevent them from ever showing on his features. Indeed, if eyes were the windows of the soul then Heero's were made out of something other than glass as their opacity made his emotions completely unreadable, even to the three men who knew him so well.

"Heero, are you okay?" Quatre asked, deeply concerned by his friend's shift in moods.

Turning to the sound of the voice, Heero smiled; a trick he had learnt a long time ago to reassure people that he was okay when really he wasn't. The fact that he had learnt it from Duo told Heero a lot about how his ex-lover _really_ felt, despite the mask of happiness he wore so much of the time. Again he felt guilty that he hadn't recognised Duo's form of subterfuge until it was too late.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, offering his gesture of reassurance to all three of his friends who were now looking at him wearing similar expressions of concern. "I'm just not used to drinking like this I guess. Relena only likes me to have a couple when we go out." He cringed at the truth within the lie as soon as he'd said it, feeling small and emasculate in giving his friends such an insight into his relationship with Relena. As if sensing his embarrassment, Wufei replied that Sally was much the same, lecturing him over and over about the perils of alcohol if he looked like he was having too much to drink. The queue then moved again, and the four friends found themselves descending the stairs into the basement comedy club. The club was rapidly filling up as ten pm and the start of the show drew near. The four men first went to the bar before finding their seats on a row not far from the small raised stage.

Heero had never seen stand up comedians before, other than on the television. Immediately then he thought of Duo, clutching his sides and wiping tears away from his large violet eyes as he lay on the couch in front of the old second-hand set they had bought together, watching the live late-night stand up shows. At first Heero had been angered that these people could use the war, Oz and the colonies as material for their routines, but Duo had taught him how to appreciate humour and soon, like Duo had said, he found that laughter eased some of the nightmares associated with his old existence; yet another debt he owed the ex-gundam pilot that had helped rebuild and reshape his life.

When the first act came on, Heero found it difficult to concentrate. He didn't doubt that the man was good at his art; all around him people were roaring with laughter, his three companions included, but he couldn't stop thinking about Duo long enough to take in any of the jokes. The second comedian was female and Heero found himself able to settle a little more. That was until she got onto the subject of marriage, bemoaning husbands and so on, bringing Heero's current predicament flooding back into his consciousness. Did he want to be Relena's husband 'til death do them part? In all honesty, he didn't know. It wasn't that Relena was a bad person; she obviously cared for him a great deal, but there was just something that niggled at the back of his mind, reminding him that he just didn't feel the same.

At the interval, Trowa and Quatre went to join the queue at the bar, leaving Wufei and Heero alone in their seats. Keen to draw Heero from his brooding, Wufei engaged him in small talk about the comedians that they had just watched. Seeing the Chinese man's delight at the evening's entertainment, Heero couldn't help but think how much Wufei had changed since the wars. He had always been so rigid in his beliefs and serious in nature that it was hard to believe he had been a teenager back then. Without a doubt, much of it was Sally's doing, her carefree influence changing him for the better, just as Quatre had done for Trowa. Maybe Relena could do that for him, Heero hoped although he couldn't prevent his mind from suggesting another name that seemed more than qualified for that job…

"That comedienne's not given you any doubts has she?" Wufei asked, grinning at Heero, once again scarily perceptive about the other man's thoughts.

Heero shook his head but didn't smile. "You don't ever regret getting married do you, Wufei?" he asked quietly, desperate to know that he was doing the right thing.

Wufei's own smile faded, realising that Heero needed to talk serious. "No, never," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "I couldn't imagine being without Sally." Heero still looked doubtful so he continued. "I know it might seem that we're too young for marriage in this day and age, but age just doesn't come into it when you know that every day when you wake up, you wake up next to the one person that you'd give your life for, the one person that makes the sun shine and the birds sing." He rested a comforting hand on Heero's shoulder and smiled at the other man supportively. "During the wars, we lived our lives as if each day was our last. Although we don't have to do that anymore, there's no reason why that ideal should stop because the world is at peace."

Heero looked up and frowned. "What are you saying, Wufei?"

Wufei smiled. "I'm saying you should follow your heart instead of worrying about the whys and wherefores. Life's too short."

There was a pause before Heero nodded firmly and stood up, Wufei's advice having a greater impact than the other man could have ever imagined. Like a lightning strike, Heero knew exactly what his heart wanted him to do and, being a man of action, he wasn't going to disappoint it. He _needed_ to know whether Duo would take him back and try again and, even if the worst case scenario came true and Duo didn't want to know, Heero now knew for certain that there wasn't going to be a wedding.

_Life's too short._

He couldn't live another day without Duo. "You're right, Wufei," Heero said, digging around in his pocket before pulling out his list of tasks, which he glanced at for several long moments.

_1. Get someone to give you a condom._

_2. Convince someone you have a risqué job._

_3. Get an item of underwear._

_4. Start a conga._

_5. Kiss a bar person._

_6. Get a tattoo._

_7. Do something impulsive._

_8. Get someone to buy you a drink._

_9. Busk on the __London__ underground._

_10. Get the attention of a police officer._

_11. Get a piece of advice from a married person._

_12. Declare your undying love to someone (Relena doesn't count)._

When he had finished reading he looked up at his friend. "Life _is_ too short."

He made to leave but Wufei caught hold of his arm. "Heero? Where are you going?" he asked, noticing Heero gazing at the exit. Heero gave the piece of paper in his hand one last glance before handing it to the puzzled Chinese man. "I'm going to complete tasks numbers seven and twelve," he said with unmistakeable determination as Wufei checked the list. "And if all goes well, I may just be able to complete number five while I'm at it."

END?


End file.
